


Simple Yet Divine

by roxyryoko



Series: Drabbles in the Dark [21]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route, Kinda, Post-Canon, tea time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:07:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24743569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxyryoko/pseuds/roxyryoko
Summary: Afternoon tea with Mercedes was Sylvain's favorite part of the day.
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/Mercedes von Martritz
Series: Drabbles in the Dark [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590193
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43
Collections: Those Who Drabble in the Dark





	Simple Yet Divine

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt for this week was "simple pleasures" and for once it is Drabble length!

Sylvain awoke due to the weight of a heavy quilt falling across his shoulders. Slow, bleary blinks preceded a sluggish hand wiping away the drowsiness from his eyes. The quilt smelled of lavender, a scent he now associated with comfort and relaxation. The fragrance ensnared him in a spell, lulling him back to rest. His hand dropped, as did his eyelids, and sleep almost took him back if not for an apology cutting through the dreamy haze.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you,” said a sweet voice, the sound ringing like a melody— one he’d memorized by heart.

The fog of sleep dissipated, the familiar presence a welcomed interruption. Head still lethargically pillowed in his hands, Sylvain turned his face to offer a sincere and heartfelt smile. Such smiles remained legends and ghosts for so many years, but now come so easily with Mercedes.

Faerghus's winter provided little midday light, but the subtle rays that pierced through the study’s window casted a faint halo over his wife. Eyes drawn ever so slightly with repentance and a pout tugging at her lips, she carded her fingers through his disheveled bangs, brushing them smooth. 

Sylvain pressed into the touch. “No need for apologies,” he said. “I’m incredibly blessed and humbled that the Goddess herself would choose  _ my _ nap to interrupt.”

Mercedes tittered. “Oh, enough of that.”

Sylvain chuckled and snatched her hand, bringing it to his lips to linger a gentle kiss on her wrist. Her skin was perfumed with lavender and chill to the touch. 

“I think you’re the one who needs the quilt,” he surmised, joining both hands together to rub warmth into her fingers.

“It’s just a bit chillier here than I’m used to is all,” Mercedes deflected but a shiver shook her body. “Afternoon tea will warm me right up.”

He released her hand and stretched upward, lacing his fingers together as he brought his arms high over his head.

“My favorite time of day.”

Mercedes smiled again. With all his heart he hoped she knew he meant those words.

“The tea’s already steeping, but please don’t feel obligated to drink with me if you’re tired.” She shivered again and ran her hands up and down her arms before crossing the room to reposition the draught screen in front of the window.

Sylvain rose and stifled a yawn, attempting to conceal it in his hand. “I’d much rather join you for tea in the flesh than dream about it,” he crooned, earning a shake of Mercedes’s head. “What’s on the menu today?”

Mercedes approached the small parlor table. A kettle, two teacups, and a tray of sweets covered with a napkin were already set up. “A  Dagda Fruit Blend that Caspar and Hilda sent us,” she explained. “I also prepared some Albinean berry scones I thought would pair nicely with it.” 

Sylvain could imagine her shooing the kitchen staff away as he settled into his seat by the roaring hearth. Mercedes procured a cloth, wrapping it around the kettle handle, and gingerly poured the pink, crystalline liquid into each teacup.

“Smells divine,” he commented, lying only partly. The steaming tea released a pleasant aroma, but the scent of lavender still consumed his senses, overpowering the light fragrance of the brew.

She set the kettle down and settled into her own chair. Immediately, she snatched up a scone and began lathering cream atop it. Sylvain helped himself to one as well.

Merrily, Mercedes bubbled, “Oh, Sylvain! Did I tell you? I received a letter from Emile this morning! He wrote from the prison in Enbarr— I do hope he is eating well there. I worry about his health. It seems they won’t be releasing him anytime soon— but he sent us his regards and wished ever so much he could have been at the wedding.”

Sylvain smiled, completely content as she continued to excitedly ramble about Emile, about greetings from friends, about gossip of courtship and politics. The song in her voice, the warmth of her smile, the comforting scent of tea and lavender all protected his heart more than she’d ever know. Crests and jealousy and wars and pettiness were still open wounds, but the simple pleasures they inexplicably wrought, somehow bringing him to these frivolous afternoons where he could share a cup of tea with Mercedes, made every hardship worth it. 

Everything they'd been through had brought them together and for that Sylvain was grateful. Sincerely.

  
  



End file.
